Trials at Sea
by ZoeSteele
Summary: With Zoë Steele's father dead, it's now her turn to take over the family company. Unfortunately for her, it won't be that easy. Loosely follows the plot of the game Trials in Tainted Space, set in the One Piece universe. Rated for language, violence, and adult themes.
1. Prologue

_His name was not renowned in the way of other famous pirates. It was not revered the way Gold Roger's was, nor respected as Whitebeard's was, nor feared as the Golden Lion's was. But instead, he got to live a life of peace, so perhaps his was the better life to lead._

A stillness filled the town. It was as if even the wind was holding its breath in anticipation. Even the sounds of wildlife could not be heard. No smoke rose from the factory pipes, nor could one hear the running of machinery. People moved about on their daily business, but with a somber air, as though they dared not break the silence. Far fewer people than a town of this size ought to have moving around in the middle of the day, especially one such as this. Only the occasional cloud crossed the sky, and the air was crisp with the promise of autumn around the corner.

Then, from central town square, came a single sound. A long hollow note played from a drum carried throughout the town, and those that were going about their daily lives stopped to listen. Then came a second note, as well as the sound of people moving in unison.

The drumbeats continued in a slow, majestic tempo. Some twenty people, all in black, walked in lockstep behind four more, carrying a closed black oak casket. The name Victor Steele was inlaid in gold across the top of the casket. In front of the bearers of it were two people. One was the drummer, a man who looked to be in his late seventies, and who walked with tears streaming steadily down his weathered face.

The second was a short woman, perhaps in her early twenties. She wore black pants and a black leather jacket, with a hooded veil to cover her face. In her gloved hands was a sheathed katana whose hilt boasted a glittering jade. Her transparent veil revealed her stony face to any onlookers, where it was clear that she was fighting the urge to cry like the man next to her.

As the procession moved through the town, people stepped up and bowed their heads. Most seemed to have been prepared for the occasion, as there was little color to be seen in their clothing. Though some men and women openly shed tears, most had the same stoney look on their faces as the woman leading the procession.

Three thousand, five hundred and twenty steps later, all in perfect harmony, to the mournful notes of a drum, found the procession in a graveyard. With smooth abruptness, the column came to a halt next to a massive and ornate headstone.

A man with silver hair stepped up to the far side of the tombstone from where the man and woman leading the procession had stopped. He wore a purple vestment, and carried an ornate, leather-bound book. He bowed his head to the two who had lead the party, then turned to the larger group. Then he spoke up.

"Ladies and gentlemen, family and friends, we are gathered here today to…"

* * *

"Are you okay, Uncle Maki?" the woman who was leading the procession asked the man who had beat the drum. Now both sat alone in a well-kept parlor, as the woman, who had removed her gloves, handed the man, Maki, a handkerchief.

He accepted it with a watery smile and began wiping away his tears. "Sorry, Zoë," he said huskily. "It's just…" He settled back into the worn leather armchair, eyes unfocused and distant.

The woman, Zoë, made a sound that could have been a snot. "No one is judging you, Maki," she told the man. "You knew Father for what, sixty years?" She looked at him expectantly.

He chuckled, putting down the used handkerchief on a nearby table. "Sixty-three, to be precise." Though he said it jokingly, no trace of humor reached his eyes, for they had yet to refocus from whatever he was looking at.

"All right then, sixty-three," Zoë conceded. "But now he's finally kicked the bucket, and you knew it was coming." The woman looked directly at the man, forcing their eyes to meet. With her hooded veil off, her cobalt blue hair shone in the light. Perched above her head were two cat-like ears of the same color. They twitched as she met his eyes and said levelly, "We all knew he didn't have another year in him after this last winter. We've been prepared."

Maki sighed. "It doesn't make losing him any easier, Zoë. And besides, now that he's gone, my time will also be coming soon." He shook his head as Zoë opened her mouth. "No, not that soon, I've still got a few years left in me. But I'm old, girl, and I'm tired."

Zoë nodded, though she didn't look like she agreed fully. "You'll still be there to help me learn to run the company though, won't you Uncle?"

Maki's head shot up as she said that. For the first time since sitting down, an emotion other than sadness crossed his face. It was a sort of mix of sympathy and wry amusement. "Ah, the company…" he mused. "Actually, your father had something to say about that. It would be better if he told you."

"What?" Zoë asked, face blank.

The man chuckled at her look of surprise and gestured towards one of the doors, this one leading to an office room. "Your father prepared something for you before he died. It's on a video snail, set up to start as soon as you sit down in his old chair. Go ahead, it'll give me some time to… think."

The woman, though still clearly confused, got up and headed towards the indicated door. As she passed by, she squeezed the man's shoulder firmly, though for which of them the reassurance was for she didn't know.

The inside of the office was rather stuffy. Bookshelves lined the walls, filled with business literature, philosophy, and other dull subjects. Towards the back of the room a large mahogany desk lay empty of work instruments. The chair that should have sat behind it instead was placed in front, looking towards the solid brick wall. Perched on the center of the desk was a video transponder snail, eyes closed and drooped.

Zoë took a moment to gaze at the familiar surroundings before walking up to the chair and seating herself. As soon as she did, the snail's eyes rose and began transmitting the recorded message on the wall.

The face of a far too handsome man appeared, looking directly at her. It appeared he was sitting down as he recorded it, because she could see the same chair she currently sat in behind his head.

"Hello, Zoë," the image said. Though the voice was a crisp tenor, it lacked it strength that it had in its youth. "If you are watching this, then I must be dead. Tell Maki I'm sorry about that," the image chuckled to itself. "So, how about it," the image asked. "This office, this mansion, Steele Tech. It's yours now. It might seem a bit daunting, but you're a strong woman, I'm sure you can handle it. Although you probably got it all from your mother's side." The image chuckled again, though it was punctuated by a cough.

"But in spite of what I just said, it's not yours yet," the image went on. "As you know, I made my way as a pirate, captain of the Steel Pirates. We had a right lot of fun, us pirates. Maki was my right hand man, always backing up whatever crazy scheme had crossed my mind." He smiled and looked wistful. "At our peak I had a bounty of two hundred and eighty million berries. The crew as a whole topped five hundred million.

"However, on the Grand Line, we realized something. We realized that whatever we did as pirates wouldn't help our children. So, using the resources and plunder I had gained, I came back to my hometown of Tarvos and purchased amnesty from the World Government. We had never committed any major crimes or pissed off the wrong people, so in exchange for outfitting one thousand marines a year with weapons and gear, as well as a hefty financial 'donation', our bounties were removed. And that's how Steele Tech started.

"Of course, you know all this. What matters to you is what I said earlier, about the company not being yours yet." The smile on the image's face was positively evil. "Maki and I were talking about the future of the company one day when the idea occurred to us. Now, you're a smart girl, you probably already know where I'm going with this. You see, I started the company with the money I got by pirating, so we figured it would be in the company's best interests if you continued the tradition."

The woman's jaw dropped as the image of her father chuckled. "Of course, if you set out with what we could give you, you'd be missing the most important part of being a pirate captain. So," he said while clapping his hands together, "Maki and the board will take over company activities for the moment. In the meantime, you'll be going on an adventure. The only things you can take with you are your own possessions, my old sword, and ten thousand berries. There is a boat prepared in the harbor for you."

"Your goal while traveling will be to various locations throughout the Grand Line. In your room with the money is a vivre card that is attached to someone holding the next one. There are a total of ten locations on the Grand Line you must visit. Each holder will have parts of a key used to unlock the chest at the final location. All of them are friends of mine, so if they don't recognize you, just tell them you're my daughter and show them the card."

"Oh, and one more thing. I sent out the message to all company locations, you can't use them for free supplies. They will sell you things at a discount, but that's it. In fact, you aren't even allowed to sleep in this house. So good luck, oh daughter of mine." With that, the video transponder snail shut its eyes, and the playback stopped.

* * *

Zoë quickly redressed into her standard outfit: pants the same color as her hair and a black leather jacket over a simple white shirt. She gathered up the measly supply of berries, cursing her luck that she never withdrew from her personal supply. No doubt that was off-limits to her now. Finally, she took the travel-stained bag lying on one side of the room. Preparations complete, Zoë took a look around her old room. Even if she made it back, she would have the master bedroom now.

 _No point in dwelling on what we've lost_ , she thought as she made her to leave the mansion. At the bottom of the stairs, however, she was stopped by the man who had beat the drum. "Uncle Maki," she greeted with a sour smile.

Ah laughed at the look on her face. "Little Zoë, about to go on an adventure," he said wistfully. "Going to be dreadful boring without you around."

"Hey! I'm not _that_ little." Her voice was petulant, but it seemed to be a well-worn conversation. At a bare five foot four, Zoë stood considerably shorter than her Uncle's eight foot three, and she had to crane her neck to look at him.

"No," he said, expression turning serious, "you're not a little girl anymore, are you? But you didn't think you could get away without saying goodbye, did you?" Zoë smiled, shaking her head, and stepped forward into a bone-crushing hug from the taller man. "Take care, girl," he whispered into her hair. "Good luck."

Releasing her from the restraint, he put his niece on the ground and proffered what was in his left hand. "Don't forget this, girl." The immaculate sheath of the katana she had carried throughout the procession glittered in the hall lights, and Zoë accepted it reverently. "It might not be Hawk-Eye's black blade, but it's a masterwork all its own. Don't lose it," Maki cautioned.

"Never," Zoë whispered as she slid the sheath into place on her belt. "Any last words of warning or advice, Uncle?"

The big man looked thoughtful, before replying, "Don't be afraid to fight marines, don't mess with a Warlord, and stay away from the Celestial Dragons. Other than that," his face split into a massive smile, "follow what you believe in, and you'll have no regrets. Now off you go girl, before I start crying for the second time today."

Zoë gave him an impish grin, hugged him once more, then set out. Behind her, she could hear a slight sniffling sound and the muttered words, "Bounty of one hundred fifty million, I can't be crying over something like…"

People waved to her and she moved through the town. Now that the funeral was over, regular life had resumed. Thought perhaps it wouldn't have as much energy as normal, the sounds of a town played regardless; children laughing, shopkeepers arguing with customers, the drone of conversation. A few people wished her good luck as she passed. Had she been the only one in the South Blue who didn't know what her father had planned?

Of course, once she thought about it more, it made sense. Her father and Maki must have had the ship built by someone; they had to get travel rations from somewhere; someone had to look after the unmanned vessel.

Her thoughts carried her all the way to the harbor, where she saw a clean quarter schooner. Single masted, a single cabin with enough space for two people to sleep uncomfortably. Ports for oars which seemed to be stowed inside at the moment. No colors adorned the sail, and no jolly roger flew above the crow's nest. For all intents and purposes, it looked like what a wealthy fisherman might use. Except for the man standing on one of the railings.

"Zoë Steele!" he cried when she got into sight. "Prepare yourself!" He stood maybe six-foot-tall, wearing a brown rag that no sensible person would call a jacket over a pair of ragged shorts. People from around the harbor were looking in his direction as he continued screaming. "I am the highwayman Mene Sparke! Your journey ends here!" He pulled a crude cutlass from his belt and held it in his right hand. "Your company will give me ten million berries if I kill you here!" He began laughing maniacally as he jumped onto the pier.

"I have a bounty of one thousand berries, you stand no chance little girl. Why don't you just make this easy for yourself and-" The man jumped backwards as Zoë pulled the katana from its sheath. An uneven double-temper line ran along the sharp side of the blade, a jade green to match the color of the hilt. The gem from earlier was just a decoration, which had been discarded after the procession.

"Ha! You think you can fight against the Highwayman Mene Sparke? Don't even try. I have never lost a fight before." His laughter continued as he lashed out with the cutlass.

Zoë would have rolled her eyes at the attack had she merely been watching. Clearly this was a man used to terrorizing unarmed travelers and prowling the streets late at night. His surprise was almost comical as she deflected his attack with ease. Then his eyes widened even further as she made an efficient riposte, drawing a line of blood on his off arm.

"You cut me!" he screamed. "No one has ever done that! All right girl, that settles it. Your death shall be long and filled with pain! No one cuts the-" His speech cut off with a gurgle as Zoë rammed the katana into his stomach. She pulled it out quickly and stepped back out of his reach as his eyes bulged. Blood began leaking down his chin as he collapsed to the pier, and his cutlass fell off the side into the water below.

"No… One… Can…" he whispered, then fell silent. People who had been watching went back to what they were doing, and the area of the harbor resumed its usual business. A pair of town guard, both the sons of pirates from her father's crew, rushed over to begin disposing of the body.

"Sorry about that, Miss Steele," said the one with a badge denoting him as a lieutenant. "We were ordered to not interfere with the fight, not that any of us thought you would lose." He bowed his head and began helping his subordinate lift the corpse.

Zoë let them work in peace as she pulled a rag from her pack and cleaned the blade of the katana. She hadn't wanted to use the man's clothes for fear it would make the blade even dirtier.

Once the body had been moved out of her way, she stepped onto her new boat. It was about what she expected, although she found that someone had stuffed an extra few days worth of dried meat into a barrel, and someone else had put two blankets in the cabin.

With a sigh, Zoë turned to the people on the pier and waved to those few watching her. She set down her pack in the cabin and took to the oars. A few people waved back from the pier, and there were not a few cheers and calls for good luck.

It took her a half hour of rowing to reach the sea outside the sheltered bay and unfurl the sail. A northwestern wind followed the current, so she allowed that to take her wherever it would. It was, after all, the start of her very own adventure.


	2. Chapter One

It took Zoë only one week to run out of supplies. She had made good progress on the first few days, but on the fourth and fifth she had hit a headwind that threatened to turn her around and further out to sea, so she had to stow the sail and begin rowing to regain the current. Though progress was slow, it gave her ample time to learn about her new ship. It was very well built, no leaks or cracks as of yet. The cabin wasn't completely warm, but whoever had left extra supplies (she figured it was her Uncle Maki) had known about that. The rudder liked to veer just barely starboard, but not enough to cause any problems as long as there was a current.

Late on her seventh day Zoë found a place to harbor. Though it wasn't a sheltered cove like Tarvos, it had no significant riptide, making it simple enough to row her way in. When she was close enough, she threw a mooring line to a few fishermen, who thankfully caught it and began helping her reel in. She stored her blankets in one of the barrels, stowed the oars, and thanked the fishermen for their help. A few weary smiles were given in response.

"It's two hun'ed beri to use t' space, miss," one of the fishermen said. He might have been in his late fifties, but he was probably older, and missing a few teeth. "That young lad'll take t' money," he added, pointing to a (relatively) well dressed man with a large leather-bound book and a small strongbox. Figuring she wasn't getting cheated on, she thanked him for the information and made her way to the young man.

He stepped up from where he was lounging as soon as she neared the end of the pier. "'Ello, miss," he said when he reached her. "End o' t' pier?" he asked, gesturing towards her quarter schooner.

"Yes," Zoë responded, reaching into her jacket where she kept her funds.

"Be two hun'ed beri, miss," he confirmed what the fisherman had said. Though, judging by his accent, they may as well have been father and son. No marine at least, though she saw a large structure just out of town with the symbol of Justice on it, meaning there was at least marine presence in this town.

Zoë handed over the money, and after taking a moment to examine it, the man placed it into the strongbox. "Hold a moment," she said as he made to move back to his chair. "I'm just stopped to pick up some supplies, can you recommend me to a good place?" As she asked she gave him a winning smile.

He smiled back and stopped. "Aye, miss. There be a place down that road there," he said, gesturing to the second street leading away from the harbor. "It have a few carts 'n a big tarp o'er it. Madame Baer, she sells food 'n stuff. Make suren you tell 'er Hunt send ya." With that, he walked back to his chair, presumably to wait for any other travelers.

Zoë thanked his back as he walked away and headed down the indicated street. It wasn't particularly busy, though that might have had to do with the time. From over the row of houses she could hear the sounds of laughter and clattering plates, indicating some sort of bar. Few people roamed this street, and most barely glanced in her direction as they hurried about their evening business.

A building with the outdoor furnishings the toll collector had described was only a short distance away. Underneath the tarpaulin, illuminated by the light of two torches stood an extremely obese woman, perhaps seven and a half feet tall. Presumably this was the Madame Baer she had been recommended to.

Zoë conducted her business quickly with the large woman, making sure to mention that Hunt had told her about the place. That earned her a two hundred beri discount on what she purchased, essentially negating the cost of the docking. Prices were basically the same as she would get on Tarvos, so Zoë didn't waste time haggling. Besides, if the woman refused her business out of spite, she'd be stuck with whatever price the next shop asked.

While packing away the supplies she could buy, and commiserating the loss of so many funds, a shrill cry came from down the street. Turning, she saw a young woman, no more than sixteen, sprawled on the ground. In front of her stood two marines with lewd grins on their faces.

"C'mon girl, lighten up," one said. "Night with us has benefits you know."

"Yeah," snickered the other, "roof that doesn't leak and a _really_ warm bed."

"No thank you," the woman cried, turning the other way and attempting to walk away.

"Hey, bitch!" the first one called, grabbing her skirt and yanking her back to the ground. "We said you're spending the night with us and you'd better like it!"

"Yeah," the second chimed in, "who do you think protects your sorry ass from pirates and bandits? You should learn to give back once in awhile, bitch." He grabbed the woman by the shirt and lifted her onto her feet, but made no move to let her go.

Angrily, Zoë took a step in the direction of the marines, but a voice from behind her made her pause. "Don't do nothin', miss," came from the shopkeeper. "Won't change nothin' and get you in a whole heap o' trouble." She turned around to see the shopkeeper shaking her head sadly. "We tried to stop 'em before, we have, but they tell their friends before they go out. We don't need no more rounds of 'reparations' for 'interfering with official marine duty'."

"Can't you tell whoever is in charge of the base up there?" Zoë asked quizzically, gesturing in the direction of the marine base she had noticed on the way into town.

The shopkeeper just shook her head again. "That Captain Zil up there practically orders 'em to do it, he'd just laugh in our face if we tried." She shook her head a third time. "Best if you let it go, miss. If they want Clarissa for a night, well that's the price we pay. Can't do nothin' to stop 'em anyway."

Zoë looked from the shopkeeper towards the scene where the top marines were dragging the woman, Clarissa, up the street. Her hand went instinctively towards her sword, but she heeded the shopkeeper's advice. Besides, even if she did do something, it would only cause trouble for the people in the town, and how do you help someone who doesn't want your help?

"Marines! What the blazes do you think you're doing?" A soprano voice split the night, and Zoë's ears twitched towards it, coming from the direction of the docks. Running up the street was a woman in marine uniform with flame red hair and a tonfa in left hand.

"Looks like help's arrived," whispered the shopkeeper from behind Zoë. Zoë spared a glance at her relieved face, but her attention was focused on the new arrival. She couldn't be any taller than six foot, and she had the insignia of a marine Lieutenant Sergeant… And the look on her face was downright murderous.

"I asked you what you think you're doing, marine," the woman said when she got closer. Both of the male marines froze in their tracks, spines stiffening comically. In their surprise they let go of the clothes of the woman between them, who darted into a nearby ally.

"Oh, Commander Penny…" the first one said in what was probably supposed to be a normal voice. "We were… That is, Fordel and I had found this woman with a twisted ankle, so we were taking her back to base to have it set by the doctor." He gave the marine next to him an unsubtle elbow.

"Oh, yeah! Yeah, it's was as Jene said, ma'am. Me an' him was just taking the pretty lady to get that ankle looked at." Both of them turned to look at the woman who was no longer standing between them.

"Really," the new marine, Penny, responded at length. "And I suppose she just ran away with that broken ankle because she was surprised?" Both of the men gulped. "And I suppose my hearing her yell for you to get off her was just her way of saying thank you?" Sweat began beading at their brows. Penny snorted, and turned away. "You're pathetic excuses for marines. Your job is to protect the people, not take advantage of them. As of this moment, you both are on half rations for the week. Now get back to base."

"Little bitch… Make her pay somehow…" muttered the first one in a voice that probably wasn't supposed to carry.

Unfortunately for him, Penny heard it. She spun on her heel and slammed the tonfa into the man's stomach with enough force to drop him to his knees. He let loose a broken cry of anguish as it hit, sinking all the way to the ground. Penny glared at him, then turned her focus to the second marine. "Did you hear something, Fordel?" she asked sweetly.

He shook his head like it would cure the plague. "No ma'am. I didn't hear nothin', and I didn't see nothin'. Jene just collapsed all of a sudden like. Must have eaten something, he must." Hurriedly, the second marine helped up the first one and began walking as fast as he could in the direction of the base. The Commander snorted again and went back the way she came, towards the busier street.

Zoë turned to face the shopkeeper. "What was that all about?"

"That was Commander Penny. She used to be in charge of the marine detachment here before the doubled its size and sent along Captain Zil. She and the ten that worked with her are the only ones still worth a damn among the whole lot."

Zoë thanked Baer for the supplies and information and headed back to the docks. No point in renting a room when she had a perfectly fine ship to sleep on. Besides, the less time she spent in this town, the better it would probably be for her.

Her (relatively) good mood shattered when she got back to the docks however. Where her boat was was now just empty water. Off to the side, the toll collector was slowing backing up into the house behind him, and the fishermen on the pier were pointedly not looking in her direction.

Zoë stalked over to the toll collector before he could make it to the house. He stiffened as she stopped in front of him, eyes narrowing. "What. Happened. To. My. Boat," she spat, tone low and dangerous.

"I dun-" He barely got the words out when Zoë's hand dropped to the hilt of her katana, and she gave him a sharp look. "Marines, miss. Theys was asking about the boat, said it looked good like. We couldn't do nothin' to stop 'em, theys took it to the base." He sounded scared enough to not try to lie, or he was a much better actor than she gave him credit for. "We couldn't do nothin', honest. Please don't chop me up, miss, I got-"

Zoë took her hand off her sword and almost spat. His desperation was plain to see, and it was too consistent with what happened earlier. Besides, if these people wanted to steal her ship, all they'd have to do is take it out to sea and wait there, no point in staying here for her to take revenge on them.

Zoë gazed out over the westward facing harbor and towards the sun that had just about set. There was no point in heading to the marine base tonight, she probably wouldn't be able to get it away in any case. Nighttime winds blew east, and she doubted her little tub could outpace a warship.

She considered asking Hunt and the fishermen for help, but their inability to do anything worried her. She didn't trust they'd have the backbone to say anything if the marines did something else. Instead, she headed back up the street she came down, towards Madame Baer's little store.

"Back so soon, miss?" the shopkeeper asked. "Did ye forget to buy somethin'?"

Her warm smile faded as Zoë began to speak. "The marines seem to have appropriated my boat. Do you know where I might sleep the night?"

"Oh no," she said, expression dark. "You're not thinkin' of… You know…" Zoë's expression didn't change. "Well, it's not my problem if you do somethin' rash. I've got an empty room where my son used to sleep, if you don't mind an old cot."

Her serious demeanor lasted all of a few extra seconds before her face split into a huge grin. "I'm just going to ask to buy it off them, Mistress Baer. I'm not going to storm a navy base for a little boat like that, but I will take you up on that offer, thank you."

"Oh," replied the shopkeeper, almost seeming saddened that Zoë wasn't going off to chop up marines. "Well, I got plenty of soup on the stove, if you don't mind watin' a little while."

Baer closed up the shop while Zoë waited at the table. The two talked as they ate, meaning the shopkeeper talked a lot and Zoë mostly listen. She learned that the town used to have a very small marine detachment, but someone higher up had decided the town would make a good spot for a base of operations for the entire quadrant of the South Blue. Lieutenant Penny, who was in charge of the town before, was promoted to Commander Penny, and became the second in command of the new base. Unfortunately, the man they had chosen to command the base had a nasty streak, which was only revealed once he moved out of headquarters and out of supervision.

"He plays tin god out here," Baer told Zoë. "Don't give a damn what happens to us so long as no one can report it. Poor Penny can't even write a report for headquarters because he just stops 'em all. He don't have the authority to demote her, but we all know he would in a heartbeat."

* * *

Zoë's night wasn't particularly restful, as she kept waking up to make sure she still had all of her possessions. She left early in the morning, before her host had awoken. She left a note asking the shopkeeper to make sure nothing happened to the supplies she left in the room that had been provided, and thanked the woman for her generosity.

The crisp morning air was chill at this time of year, and Zoë zipped up her jacket for warmth. She made her way up through the town in the direction of the marine base unhurriedly. A dirt path separated the town proper from the base, which seemed rather unnecessary to her. Why not just build the base closer to town?

Two guards stood outside the wall to the base, keeping watch on the road. Both straightened visibly when Zoë came into sight, though they seemed to relax a little when they got a good look at her. Based on the actions of the two dimwits from the previous night, these marines didn't seem to take women who couldn't threaten them seriously. A trait that might backfire here, she thought with glee.

The two marines stepped into the road, forming a human blockade to stop her from entering the base. Both topped Zoë's diminutive stature by a solid eight inches or more, a fact which seemed to only enhance their feeling of superiority.

"State yer business, miss," drawled the slightly taller of the two, hand moving rather obviously to the flintlock pistol at his hip. The other guard contented himself with either sneering or leering, it was hard to tell.

"I wish to speak to one of the base commanders," she replied in a soft voice. "Can you give me directions to one?"

"Oh ho," said the one who had spoken before. "Lookin' to talk to Captain Zil are ye?" His eyes made a far too long inspection of her body before latching onto her sheathed katana. "That's a mighty pretty sword, girly," he said at last. "Little thing like you don't need that. Tell ye what, how about you give that toy to us and we'll show ye to the captain." The other didn't say anything, only moving his hand towards his own pistol either as a threat or a precaution.

"No, thank you," she responded, letting a little steel slip into her voice. "Please take me to see one of the base commanders." While she kept her posture just as unthreatening, her tone made it clear she wasn't to be taken for granted.

"Tch," the talking marine huffed. "Yer no fun. Oi, Arral," he said, turning to the marine beside him, "take her in to see the captain or the commander, whichever you see first." The marine in question moved to attention, then headed off into the base, sparing a quick glance to see if Zoë was following.

The inside was exactly what she expected. White walls, clean floors, the occasional picture of a higher-ranking marine or bounty poster, and doors that seemed to have been made using a cookie cutter. The marine, Arral, led her down a few twisting corridors to what appeared to be some sort of office.

"What's your name," he whispered as they got up to the room.

"Zoë," she replied, deciding that including her last name would only lead to more questions. Besides, it was kind of against the spirit of the challenge to use family connections to get everything she wanted.

The marine stepped into the office a few paces ahead of her, loudly clearing his throat. "A Zoë here to see you, sir," the man almost shouted. The woman almost winced at his volume, ears lowering in protest, but that was only the beginning.

"Is there," a bellowing response came out of the office. "Well then show her in, man!" Uproarious laughter followed, as well as the sound of a chair scraping against stone.

The marine swiftly came to attention before stepping to the side to allow Zoë in. The space was surprisingly well maintained though the man behind the massive desk probably didn't do his own upkeep.

Speaking of that man, he stood more than twice as tall as Zoë, and almost three times as wide at the shoulder. He wore a white dress uniform with the jacket of the marines over it, arms not in the sleeves. It made Zoë wonder why they even made the jackets with sleeves anymore if no one used them. The man's face had three horizontal scars running across his cheeks and nose that looked like little stripes, and not an ounce of fat on him. Upon seeing her, his laughter faded somewhat, only to be replaced by a voice that shouldn't be allowed to speak while indoors. Or within a hundred feet of another person.

"Hello, little woman!" it blasted. "What can the marines do for you today? Find a lost dog? Missing cat? Help you move some furniture?" His every word seemed the shake the walls and windows of the room, and her ears pressed completely flat to compensate.

"Not quite, sir," she said once the ringing was done and she was fairly certain she'd be able to hear herself talk. "I-"

"Well, out with it," he interrupted. "The marines are very busy people, helping people and all that!"

Zoë merely stared at him blankly for a moment. Either he was an idiot or was very good at making people underestimate him. "I was actually looking for my boat, sir. It wasn't docked where I left it when I got back, and I had heard the marines had seen it." She carefully did not say, 'stole it', as one didn't pick fights while standing in the middle of the enemy's base.

"A boat is it?" he asked rhetorically, laughing all the while. "Marine, have you seen any strange ships around?" Despite his lackadaisical manner, his eyes snapped to the other man with unerring accuracy, considering he hadn't even been looking in their direction before.

"Err, yes sir," Arral replied, "there is-"

"And what would your boat happen to look like, little lady," the marine Captain interrupted. Clearly he was smart enough to stop her from claiming any old ship as hers.

"It's a quarter schooner, one cabin on the back half, couple of barrels in it," she said more to the marine than the captain.

Captain Zil's eyes rolled lazily from her to the man next to her, who seemed to gulp at the unspoken question. "A-a ship befitting that description was found just floating in the sea last night, s-sir," he stammered. "It's currently docked in our harbor."

"Ah, what a stroke of fortune for you, miss," said the captain. "Unfortunately, as we seem to have rescued your ship, it would normally be ours. But!" he bellowed suddenly, fist slamming onto the desk with enough force to make the wood crack, "I'm sure you could buy it back from us, for, say… fifty thousand beri! Nay, a hundred thousand!" He continued laughing with a triumphant look on his face. Until.

"Okay," replied Zoë. The massive marine's guffaws cut off like a knife.

"...What?" was all he could manage.

"I said, 'Okay,'" she reiterated. "Fifty thousand beri. I'll be back in a few days with the money," she continued on into his silence, "so make sure not to get any scratches on my boat." With that, she left, taking a perverse glee in the silence of the office.

Unfortunately, it only lasted for a second or so, before the captain began laughing again.

Leaving the marine base wasn't quite as difficult as she feared. Though she got the occasional strange look (and leer) from the marines, it turned out that the Captain's office was just one hallway down from the main corridor. While the marine that had escorted her in had gone through numerous winding passages was beyond her.

The marine who had done the talking when she arrived was no longer there. Instead, another two schleps held the post, watching for intruders and shivering in the cold morning air. Zoë gave them a brief nod as she left, not wanting to seem impolite.

* * *

Predictably, most of the town was awake at this point. Fishing was best at dawn and dusk,after all, and the streets bustled around her as she made her way down the other street of the town. As expected, it held far more points of interest. Fishmongers, various shops, bars, restaurants, and even a repair shop. More than she had expected of such a poor town.

Deciding one was as good as any other, Zoë made her way into one of the bars, the most likely place to find bounty posters and to hear gossip. She was treated to the sight of a slightly pudgy man, perhaps seven feet tall, cleaning tables with a rag so dirty that she was amazed it hadn't simply disintegrated. He was missing his right arm at the elbow, his left foot was made of wood, and his face had so many scars that it was impossible to tell where one started or stopped.

Other than the mutilated man, the bar was empty, not that anything else was to be expected so early. Much as fishermen like to drink, they had to think about their profits first. Drinking came in the afternoon, when the fish retreated from the sun and there was far more time to spare.

The grizzled man look up at the sound of the door closing. Somehow, it appeared that both his eyes had been spared when whatever happened to him had occurred.

"Mite early for someone to come in," he growled in a voice like gravel, echoing her previous thoughts. However, he didn't seem to begrudge her entrance, and went back to "cleaning".

Zoë took the chance to look around the simple bar. There were perhaps ten tables, with four chairs apiece. The bar proper had only three chairs seated at it, though plenty of kegs behind it. On one of the far walls was what she sought; a bounty board. She made her way over, taking care to skirt the long way around where the man was cleaning. She didn't want to get any closer to that rag than necessary. The man grunted as she passed; as a greeting or acknowledgement, she didn't know.

Unfortunately for her, the board held a paltry six posters on it, two of which were useless to her. Eustass "Captain" Kid and Killer weren't anywhere close to this area, and even if they were, she didn't want to get anywhere near them. Another held a name she had never heard of, surprising with a bounty of thirty-six million, one Jewelry Bonney. Thankfully, not all of them were big fish, and she turned her attention to the other three. Pad "Mystic" Remra was also out, as she heard rumors of him reaching the Grand Line before she had even left.

That meant that her only two real options were Jor Mance, worth one million, and someone named Cudgel, worth one hundred thousand.

"Hey, mister," Zoë called over her shoulder, not bothering to turn around. "Know anything about these blokes?"

"Eh," he grunted. "Let me see which one you mean." The sound of wood scraping followed, and Zoë turned to watch as the man made his way over to the board faster than she expected of a person with his injuries. Once he got close enough to see properly, she motioned towards to the two in question. "Eh," the grunted again, followed by a vigorous throat clearing. "Yeah, I heard of 'em."

"Anything recent?" she pressed.

"Yeah," he replied, then reached towards the board and tore off the paper for Cudgel. "This 'un died last week." He crumpled the paper into a ball, then threw it towards the corner farthest from the door. "Other 'un's local, lives on the other side of this island."

"Really?" Zoë's surprise was probably justified, considering there was a marine base on the island. Any pirates making their homes here should have been routed by now, or at least they'd have been smart enough to leave.

"Yeah," the mangled man repeated. "Marines don't give two tosses of shit what happens to us. Besides, that Captain Zil up there knows that if there isn't enough pirate activity down here, they'll move him an' his men somewhere else. And he might not be in charge of that new place." The man snorted, the pulled out the rag and went back to cleaning.

It was, Zoë thought, a rather absurd situation, but luckily one she could take advantage of. "Where, exactly, is he?" she asked the man.

"Eh," he grunted again, turning around to look at Zoë with an appraising gaze. "You a bounty hunter," he asked gruffly.

"Something like that," she replied.

The man made his predictable grunt, looking at her for a few more seconds, before shrugging. "There's a cove on the opposite side of the island from the base. Can't miss it. Should have a ship anchored in it, pirate flag with a harpoon down the center of it."

"Thank you," said Zoë, turning to leave. The man just grunted again and wished her good luck.

* * *

 **A/N**

 **Put this in the wrong category by accident, oops.**


End file.
